


It's a Wonderful Life

by TwistedType



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, angsty, but happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2829770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedType/pseuds/TwistedType
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie's Christmas Eve plans are ruined, only to change for the better when Bass finds her alone at the local bar. A little nudge from the crowd gets them opening up to one another in ways they didn't expect. </p><p>This was my original present for A Very Charloe Christmas. However it got a big angsty and I wanted to give LemonsAreSweet something a little more fun! </p><p>Wishing a Very Merry Charloe Christmas too you all!</p><p>Cross posted on FFN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Wonderful Life

**Author's Note:**

> This was my original present for A Very Charloe Christmas. However it got a big angsty and I wanted to give LemonsAreSweet something a little more fun! 
> 
> (Plus I wasn't sure I was even going to finish it, but man, look at me go. I'm a regular writing machine these days!)
> 
> If you haven't seen It's a Wonderful Life I suggest you fix that immediately. 
> 
> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all!

Charlie stared at the drink in her hand, trying to ignore the rowdy bar around her. It seemed Christmas Eve brought out the most belligerent of customers. Surprising, as she assumed her typical hideaway would be abandoned, the usual customers forgoing a drink for a night with family. 

Unless they were all trying to escape their relatives as she was currently doing. 

This wasn’t the night she’d initially planned. It was actually quite far from it. For the first time in ages she’d organized a real family holiday. The war with the Patriots was over, the Nano defeated, and her mother was in a good place. Charlie had worked tirelessly for the past week to organize a Christmas celebration they would remember. One that would help wash away the years of grief each one of them had faced. 

She should have known better. 

It didn’t take more than an hour of Monroe’s presence to drive her mother into a fit. Screaming and shouting, Rachel demanded he leave, tearing apart their mish-mashed family get together. It was so heartbreakingly typical. Charlie was sick of it — sick of the fighting, the anger, and the grudges. Without a word she’d slipped out the backdoor, wiping the tears from her eyes and trudging to the one place she knew would be open. 

What a sad sight: Alone. In a bar. On Christmas. 

Sometime she wondered if maybe it would be better if she’d never been born. 

“Merry Christmas.” She mumbled into the drink, trying to swallow back the emotions that wanted to spring forward. She refused to cry again, unwilling to hit that level of rock bottom. 

The chair next to her slid out, pulling her from her melancholic thoughts with an ear splitting screech. Her head snapped to the side, a mouth full of fowl words, which caught in her throat when she saw the figure sliding into the seat. 

“Charlotte.” Monroe greets, his voice low and tentative. He looked tired, hair unruly and wrinkles around his eyes more prominent. The self-assured way he typical carried himself was gone. 

“Hi.” She says, her voice betraying her defeated attitude. She just wanted to be alone. To have one day where their past didn’t get in the way of the present. His expression mirrors hers, as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your dinner. If I’d known Rachel was going to react like that I wouldn’t have come.” The guilt was eating at him. Time was proving once again that maybe the world would be a better place without him. Even know that the dust had settled, trouble still followed him wherever he went. Ruining situations for those he care about. 

Charlie shook her head, because was not his fault. None of the day’s mishaps were because of him. He’d been cordial and helpful from the moment he’d arrived, bringing alcohol and venison for their feast. It was her mother’s misplaced anger, and her continued hatred that had caused the night to spiral. Rachel just couldn’t get over the past. 

Charlie tried to show her that Monroe had changed, that they had all changed, but she was too stuck in her own way. 

And besides, Charlie had wanted Bass there. He seemed to be the only she could count on these days. The hesitant truce they’d made when the Patriots fell had developed into something else entirely. He cared for her, enough to constantly check that she wasn’t just surviving day to day. He made her smile. And laugh, a trait she’d thought she’d never get back after years of fighting. She wasn’t just an after thought to him like she’d become to Miles and Rachel. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Charlie said, staring at the amber liquid in her glass. Her fingers toyed with the object, mindlessly watching the ripples her movements created. “It was stupid, anyways. Who wants to celebrate a holiday after everything we’ve been through?”

Bass’s reaches across the table, settling his hand on her fidgeting fingers, forcing Charlie to look up at him. “It wasn’t stupid.”

She let out a snort. “You don’t have to coddle me, you know.”

He tilted his head at her, flashing those pretty blue eyes that made her stomach do silly flips. She hated how entrancing they were, and how he could wipe out her thoughts with a single look. They were the prettiest feature on his handsome face. She’d all but told him such in a drunken stupor. His only response was belly-filled laughter. But he knew exactly what they did to her, and how to use them. This wasn’t the first time he turned the full force of his striking gaze on her. 

“When have I ever coddled you, Charlotte? You’ve never needed my words of assurance. But I’m telling you the truth. It wasn’t stupid.” His hand squeezed hers lightly. “In fact, I was looking forward to it. I haven’t celebrated Christmas in nearly twenty years.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “After the blackout, people were too concerned with surviving. Once the Republic was functioning I never had time, and then....” His eyes darkened, unfocusing as he recalled Miles’s abandonment and the years he spent lording over the Republic alone. He was in misery ever moment of it, driven crazy by isolation and paranoia. The Republic falling was a godsend for his sanity and soul. Without losing it he never would have seen the darkness he’d slipped into, or been given the chance to redeemed himself to people he hurt the most. 

Charlie turned her hand over, twisting her fingers in his in comfort. She knew from his face the memories he’d drifted off into. He never spoke of it, but she offered comfort when she could. 

Bass closed his eyes, shaking his head as he pulled himself from his daydream. When they reopened the gloom had lessened, still the heaviness of the years seemed to be marked on his face. 

“Why don’t we get out of here? We can celebrate on our own. I’m positive I can scrounge up enough for a honest dinner.” He said turning to Charlie. 

“Really?” 

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious. You deserve a decent Christmas, and I don’t like the thought of you spending the night alone.”

“Okay.” Charlie responds with a flushed face, a tentative smile crossing her features, which Bass returned. She tries to ignore the way her body reacts again, her stomach summersaulting and heart fluttering. It was unfair the way he made her feel. Unfair that she was almost certain it was unreturned. Every time he’d get close, give her a hint that maybe he cared a little more for her than he should. A little more than was socially acceptable, he’d pull back, the firm seal of friendship rebranded on their relationship. 

It was tiring, but not nearly enough to let hope go. 

Bass helped her from her seat, his hand settling upon her lower back as he led her through the bar crowd. All her focus was wrapped up in the feel of his warm hand against her cloth-covered skin. She never saw the dancing couple that was spinning too close. They knocked her into Bass, who stumbled slightly, tugging her against his chest as he caught his balance against the one of the arched doorways. 

“I gotcha.” He murmured, looking down at her dazed face, eyes blinking furiously. 

“I think I’m drunker than I originally thought.” She said with a laugh, causing him to smile and a deep chuckle to rumble from his chest. 

“I expected more from a Matheson.” 

Her face scrunched at the insult, eyes narrowing in false fury. She opened her mouth to refute his admonishment only to be silenced by sudden rhythmic chants from the crowd around them. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss...!” 

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up, eyes flickering around the bar to confirm the words were being shouted at them. The whole bar had seemed to stop, focusing only on the couple tangled in the doorway. 

“Its an old tradition.” Came Bass’s smooth voice in her ear, his hot breath against her skin. She shivered, tilting her head back in his direction, noses skimming teasingly. “When a couple is caught under the mistletoe they....”

“Oh.” Was all she could say, her eyes transfixed on his lips. Her tongue poked out, wetting her suddenly parched skin. Monroe didn’t miss the action, his eyes dilating as he watched.

With gentle hands he tugged her closer, he whispering against edge of her lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, Charlotte.” 

She nodded minutely, lips parting as his brushed against hers. It was gentle, hesitant almost. Her eyes fluttered, lashes skimming her cheeks as she melted into the feeling. He tasted like whiskey and sweat, an intoxicating mixture of man. His tongue snuck out, gliding against her bottom lip, causing her to gasp. Bass pulled back, slightly, eyes traveling over her face searching for some sign of hesitation. When he saw none, he pressed forward again, his kisses more aggressive. A hand traveled to the back of her neck, his thumb grazing the bones of her spine. She shivered at the touch, arching into him in need. 

As the kiss deepened the hooting and hollering around them grew louder, a few wolf-whistles breaking over the noise. Instead of loosing interest, their audience seemed to be growing, as well as the comments being shouted. 

Bass pulled away with a growl at as a particularly vulgar comment was flung their way. He glared in the direction he heard the remark come from, before turning back to Charlie. Here eyes were still shut, lips parted. She was deliriously lost in the kiss, oblivious to the world around them. 

“Charlotte.” He whispered against her cheek, dropping a kiss at the corner of her mouth. “Baby.” He tried again, causing her to smile and her eyes to blink open. She was dazed, drunk on their kiss. She felt safe, and comfortable and didn’t want the feeling to end. “Lets get you home.” 

Charlie blushed, but nodded, following his lead again out of the crowd and allowing him to help her into her jacket at the door.

The cold December air hit her like a wave, climbing over her skin and washing away the haze she’d succumbed to. At her side, Bass held his arm around her, his body a warm and sturdy contrast to the night air. He pulled her closer when she shivered, but didn’t hurry their pace. He enjoyed the silent night that surrounded them. It was peaceful, a luxury they were rarely granted. And he feared that breaking that silence would break the spell they’d both fallen under. He worried Charlie would come to her senses and see the kiss they just shared as a mistake. 

He’d been trying to fight the attraction he felt towards her for years. Shying away when she got too close, when all he longed to do was steal her away, keeping her for his own. If he’d had his way, ignoring the pesky conscious that followed him like a shadow, she would have been his from the moment he saw her in Philadelphia. He envied her strength and ferocity, coveted her loyalty that she seemed to give willingly to everyone but him. He wanted all of her in the worst of ways, and that obsession had only grown. Loosing her now would be the worst of blows. A crushing defeat he was unsure he could bounce back from. It was one thing to want, and know you can never have. But to have tasted her fruit, to have a semblance of hope and have it torn away would ruin him again. His sanity would be lost to another Matheson. 

“What’s your last Christmas memory?” Charlie asked quietly out into the night her question twisting in the gentle wind. “I don’t really remember much, before the blackout I mean. What was Christmas like then?”

Bass let out a nervous chuckle, her question surprising him. His body was tense as he waited for the fall out of their kiss, but he let himself relax slightly, pulling her body tighter to his side. “You loved Christmas.” He answered, the first thing popping into his mind. If he were honest he’d been thinking about their last Christmas celebration together since she’d announced her party earlier in the week. “You’d just turned four, and all you wanted was a puppy. You’d been driving your parents wild with it for weeks...”

“But Danny was allergic.” 

Bass looked down at her sadly, regret hitting him like a punch to the gut. He knows she would never believe him, but the passing of Ben and Danny still weighed heavily on his heart. More so than any other death he’d been the cause of. Ben had been like his older brother, and he still remembered Danny as a chubby, but sickly baby. They’d been part of his family once upon a time, and he was the reason they were gone. He was the reason she’d never get to see them again. 

“Hey.” Charlie said, tugging at his jacket sleeve, calling him back to the present. She gave him a soft smile of understanding. 

“Anyway, Miles was determined to get you what you wanted. He searched for a hypoallergenic puppy for weeks” He laughed. “When Rachel found out she had a meltdown, nearly refused to let us come visit. So he relented on the puppy, at least a live one. He forced me to go Christmas shopping and, I swear we ended up with every puppy shaped stuffed animal in the tri-state area.”

The grin that broke out on her face was as bright as the moon shining down on them. “I remember. At least the stuffed animals part... I tried to take them with me, after the lights went out, but it just wasn’t feasible. I did keep one with me. It had big floppy ears, and was as soft as silk. I drug him everywhere.”

“You lit up like a Christmas tree when you saw them all. We struggled to convince you to open the rest of your gifts. — You were as passionate then as you are now.” 

Her smile softened and she dipped her head, turning it into his shoulder, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “So your last Christmas memory involved me? Watch yourself Monroe or your might end up giving me a big head.”

He tugged on stray ringlet, a throaty grunt rumbling in his chest. “Too late.” 

She frowned, giving him a soft slap in the side. “Really, though? What about your family? You never —” She stopped herself short, quickly regretting the word vomit. He never spoke about them for a reason, it wasn’t her business, and yet she was curious. She wanted to know about Sebastian Monroe before the Blackout, and before their lives all got thrown to hell. If he was anything like the man she’d recently been falling for she needed to know him. 

He stopped, turning her to face him, his hands settling on her shoulders and rubbing the chill away from her upper arms. His eyes were sad, that heavy look of loss present in the tense of his face. He searched her eyes as he tried to come up with something to say. She wished she could take it back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No. I want to talk about it... To share them with you. I haven’t thought about those happy memories enough.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes, Charlotte.” 

She fidgeted under his gaze, nose wrinkling in the cold. He moved his hands down her arms, grabbing her frozen fingers in his. He rubbed his rough hands over hers, warming them the best he could, before placing one in his pocket and pulling her back into his side. His other arm looped around her shoulder, fingertips trailing heavily over arm. 

“My last Christmas with them was a mess. I’d been stuck in the airport for nearly twenty-four hours because of a snowstorm and I missed our usual church service. My sisters were fighting when I finally made it home, something about a boy or clothes...” He shrugged with a genuine smile. “I don’t remember. And my mother, my mother who never burnt anything, she let my father watch the oven when she came to get me from the airport. Half of the dishes came out burnt. We ended up eating Chinese takeout in the living room, with It’s A Wonderful Life playing on the TV.”

“It sounds perfect.” 

“It was. Somehow, through all the drama, we ended up having the perfect day together.” He said, a slight choke in his voice. Charlie’s eyes glanced up, catching the tears in his eyes. She wrapped her other arm around him, pressing her face into his chest, trying to comfort him in the only way she knew how. His hand fell on her head, stroking her hair; reveling in the undeserved comfort she was giving him. They walked in silence for as long as Charlie could stand it. Her next question causing Bass to bark in laughter. 

“What’s A Wonderful Life?”

“A Christmas movie. It was my mother’s favorite, and mine.” He said with a light flush to his tanned face. 

Charlie giggled. “Tell me about it.” 

So he did. The rest of their walk was spent of him weaving the tale of George Bailey: a man too compassionate for his own good, and who thought that the world might be better off without him. 

“But he was wrong?” Charlie asked, as they made their way up his front porch steps.

“Very. Clarence showed him how important he was, how each man’s life affects so many others and when they’re gone the hole they create.”

“And he got the girl?” 

“Not for a lack of effort on his part.” 

“Was she stubborn?” 

“A lot like you actually...” Bass teased, receiving a sharp elbow from Charlie in return. In a moment of spontaneity he spun her around on the porch to face the glowing moon. 

“What is it you want, Charlie?” He asked her intently, emotions betrayed in his voice. The movie lines fit too perfectly, saying everything he wanted to say but didn’t know how. “You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.” 

Charlie tilted her head at him, an unsure smile to her face. Wondering for a moment if he’d finally gone crazy. “What?”

“Hey, that’s a pretty good idea. I’ll give you the moon, Charlie.” 

“Bass...”

“Let me give you the, Moon, Charlotte” He pleaded, pulling her in close. Her heart stuttered at the look in his eyes, those deep pools of blue marking her soul. They’d come so far, but at this moment all she wanted was to see him happy, to make him happy.

“I’ll take it.” She murmured, tilting her forehead to touch his. Their noses brushed in an intimacy she’d never felt with anyone else. The hot air of their breath mingled as they stared at one another, words too insignificant for what they both wanted to say. They let their eyes talk, years of hatred and guilt being thrown away. Replaced by forgiveness and acceptance and love. 

“But what am I going to do with the moon? When what I really want is you...” She whispered, breaking the silence. 

Bass tried to contain his glee, but her words bowled him over. Words he never thought he hear coming out of Charlotte’s mouth were wrapping their way around him like warm blanket. If he were the Grinch, his heart would have grown three sizes in that instant. “You have me, Charlie. Me, the moon, whatever you want its yours.” 

“But what about what you want?” She asked quietly, running a hand over his jaw, fingers scratching at the mess of scruff there.

“I want you. Just you.”

“You have me, for Christmas or forever.”

He couldn’t hold back any longer, that desire to kiss her again overwhelming. He pressed his lips to hers, ravenous for her taste again. They weren’t delicate like before, it was hungry and passion filled. He wanted her to know him in her. 

Dinner and drinks were long forgot as he dragged her through the door, bypassing the kitchen and living room on the way to his bed. Charlie didn’t seem to mind as she matched him step for step, hands exploring as they walked, running over the muscles hidden under layers of clothes. She wanted to touch him, feel those parts of him she’d only dreamed about or seen from afar. 

He kicked open his bedroom door, backing her through as his arms began tugging at her jacket. She shrugged out of the material, forcing him to do the same. It was long before the other layers of their winter attire had joined their jackets on the floor. Bass hoisted Charlie into his bed, laying her back amongst the pillows. She shivered under his heated gaze as he crawled over her, like a predator eyeing his dinner. 

“You’re perfect.” He said, his gaze roving over her naked body, she was all soft curves and lean muscles. A pink flush was painted over every inch of skin, enticing him to lick and touch every inch of her. Her back arched as his calloused hands glided over her thighs, spreading them wide. He licked his lips, her body already calling for his, her slit glistening in the pale light. The need to taste her was overwhelming.

With the learned talent of a man only his age could have, his drew out her want. Starting at the knee he kissed her softly, his tongue writing of his love for her on every inch of skin. His facial hair rubbed against her delicate flesh, marking her skin red with ownership. As he moved higher, Charlie couldn’t contain her moans. She fisted her hands in the pillows above her head, squirming and arching with every touch he gave her. 

The first sweep of his tongue on her heated flesh had her crying out in ecstasy. It felt so wrong and right at once. Never had she had a man take her in this way. This was his, and only his. He licked her softly, savoring her flavor. She was spicy and warm, like spiked cider on a December afternoon. 

His fingers danced over her stomach, gliding over her goose-bumped flesh, making their way to her heaving peaks. He palmed them as he feasted, twisting and tweaking her nipples, listening to her moans and cries and archiving what she liked. He held her there, wanting to spend an eternity between her legs. He would never get enough of her. 

“Please, Bass.” She pleaded when it became too much, the pleasure turning into a delicious pain. She needed release, needed that push over the edge. With a suck of her clit and a twist of her nipples, she barreled over. Her body couldn’t contain the pleasure, her mouth opening in a scream and legs twitching around Bass’s head. 

Her body fell limply against the bed, mind hazy with the aftershocks of her release. Never had she felt such intensity from an orgasm.

“That was beautiful.” He purred in her ear, wet lips trailing along her neck. Her fingers tangled in his dark blonde curls, pulling him in for a kiss. She gasped at the taste of herself on his tongue, a hedonistic lust surging through her. She liked it. Bass tugged back, finding her gaze. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not.” There was that word vomit again; she twisted her head to the side, hiding her face in the pillow. Bass wouldn’t have it, grasping her chin as held himself over her, propped upon his elbows.

“You are.” He said, eyes boring into hers. “If I have to spend the rest of my days proving it to you I will.” The promise of his words made her bite her bottom lip.

“Now.” He said tapping her inner thigh with two fingers. “Spread your legs wider, Baby.” 

She complied, letting him move her legs around his hips. Her whole body vibrated at the feel of his cock against her entrance, sliding against her silky folds. Her legs twitched, tightening around his waist, urging him closer. Bass smiled, staring down at her with nothing but love in his eyes. Slowly, he eased into her. 

Her stomach clinched at the feel of him filling her for the first time. The friction was sweet, tickling at her never endings. She moved her arms, trailing her fingernails down his back, adding new wounds to old scars. Bass grunted at the sensation, hips moving faster at her urging. 

“Harder.” She begged, meeting him thrust for thrust, a sheen of sweet breaking out over their bodies. Bass was hitting places inside her she didn’t know existed. Her whimpers and moans his only guide. It was hard and rough, just like they spared. Messy, and loud, and violent: They were throwing years of pent up frustration into this one coupling. It was their version of love. 

Charlie screamed as she came, her orgasm taking her by surprise. Her heart pounded in her chest, limbs tightening around the man she loved as if he were going to disappear. She felt complete, truly loved for once in her life. He was giving her everything he had, seeking out her pleasure rather than his own. 

As her release subsided she loosened her hold, head falling back as she gasped for air. A breathless smile painted her face, eyes glistening as she looked up at Bass. He pressed forward, hips pounding down against hers. His lips managed to make their way to her neck, sucking at the skin there as his balls drew up. With a final thrust he came within her, groaning out her name. The warm, sticky fluid filled Charlie. It was a stamp no other man could claim. 

They fell into heap, limbs tangled and chests heaving. Their faces nuzzled together, stealing kisses and breathes like they couldn’t bear to part. They laid like that until their racing hearts had calmed and heads had cleared. Bass moved first, rolling them to the side, pulling Charlie to rest partly on top of him, her head on his chest, buried in the strong hold of his arms. 

“Merry Christmas, Bass.” She said drowsily, eyes fluttering. 

“Merry Christmas, Charlotte.” He replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His hand stroked up and down her waist aimlessly, enjoying the feel of her wrapped around him. 

“You never finished the story.” She reminded, eyes tilting up to gaze at him. 

His lips pulled back in a wide grin, happy she loved such a simple story. It had always been his favorite. His mother even joked that he wouldn’t be able to marry a girl until he knew she loved it too. 

“Where were we?”

She shrugged, snuggling into his side. “Start at the beginning. I want to hear it again.” 

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple, the smile never leaving his lips. “Alright, I’ll start at the beginning.... Bedford Falls was a sleepy little town. It was Christmas Eve, and with God looking down, he could here the whole town praying for one man. A man named George Bailey.” 

“You remind me of him you know.” She broke in. 

Bass swallowed. He could see the similarities himself too. It was hard to miss. And he knew he was just as guilty as old George, wishing he’d never existed. 

“You changed your mind too though, right? Even without Clarence to save you?”

Bass pulled her tight, never wanting to let his magnificent women go. “I don’t need a Clarence. Not when I have you Charlotte. Not when I have you.”

She tried to bury her face in his chest to hide the happy tears he’d made spill from her eyes. He might not know it, but he was her Clarence too. He’d been there when she’d hit her lowest, pushing her to stay present and aware. His insistence kept her from the edge. Maybe they were just meant to save one another. Maybe they had a pair or two of guardian angels looking out for them as well. 

“Now.” He said, clearing the heaviness from his throat. “No more interrupting. I have a story to tell.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, Marry Christmas to you all. 
> 
> And let me know your thoughts. I'm a greedy thing and I adore reviews!


End file.
